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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198389">In the Man, in the Subject, and in the Occasion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Rabbit/pseuds/Writer_Rabbit'>Writer_Rabbit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Concerned Grissom, Crying, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Gil Grissom Calls Sara Sidle Pet Names, Headaches &amp; Migraines, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Insecure Sara Sidle, Insecurity, Kissing, Making Out, Misunderstandings, My First Work in This Fandom, Panic, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Rough Kissing, Season/Series 08, Worry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:15:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Rabbit/pseuds/Writer_Rabbit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Being tasered, kidnapped, and left for dead hadn’t made Sara any more adept at communicating with Grissom, so she didn’t know why she expected him to be any better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Grissom/Sara Sidle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Man, in the Subject, and in the Occasion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b> <em>“True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion.”</em> </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>– Daniel Webster</b>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>At first, when Sara woke up at Desert Palm, all she could register was that her vision was whacked up. Everything was a little blurry from having her eyes glued shut for who knows how long, not to mention slightly skewed from how dizzy and light-headed she was. The lighting was off, too: she had known only darkness for hours—maybe days—but before that she had been underneath the blazing Nevadan sun for hours<em>—maybe days—</em>and her eyes were not having a good time adjusting. Colours were muted, yet everything was too bright.</p><p>All in all, nothing that greeted her was helping her headache or disorientation.</p><p>Well, at first.</p><p>Then her bleary eyes had cleared up a bit, and she saw Grissom sitting at her side, reading an entomology textbook. And as she squinted to get a better look, she noticed it wasn’t just <em> any </em> entomology textbook—it was the very copy he had gifted her for Christmas a few years back. Reddening, she wished she could return to blissful unconsciousness. She could only imagine what he made of her notes and comments in the margins.</p><p>“Where—?”</p><p>The dryness of her throat was almost a physical roadblock as it suddenly overwhelmed her and she could no longer force words out of her mouth. The one had been enough, however, to catch her lover’s attention.</p><p>Grissom was suddenly at her side, brushing her hair and urging her to drink water out of a straw. “Don’t speak, darling,” he whispered. “As for where, you’re at Desert Palm. The doctors said you’ll have to take it easy, but you’ll make a full recovery.” A frown overtook his handsome face. “Physically, at least. Mentally…is another story.” He cupped her face and brushed her cheek with his thumb, so soft and light that she shivered. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, Sara…”</p><p>Sara jerked her head out of his grasp, shaking her head a desperate <em> no </em> in the process. “That’s not what I meant,” she said, pushing through her physical limitations and common sense alike.</p><p>Grissom’s frown deepened. “Honey, I just said don’t—”</p><p>“Where did you get that?” she interjected, nodding at the textbook he had left on his seat.</p><p>Grissom barely spared it a glance before his eyes locked back on hers. His constant watching her would have made her uneasy, but now he was smiling, and the sight was so rare and so precious that she figured she could push aside her fear of closeness and attention for a few minutes.</p><p>“I stopped by your place,” he said. “The nurses were sick of me, I think, after Hour 7 of my vigil at your bedside, and the team made me go home for a few hours for everyone’s sake.” His smile turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I…didn’t want to go to my house, though, so I went to yours for a shower and some sleep. Picked up some clothes for you and some entertainment while I was there.”</p><p>Sara managed a wobbly, but sincere, smile. “Thank you, Gil,” she said, hating that her voice was probably too weak to carry the weight of what she wanted to tell him in those three words. <em> Thank you for taking care of yourself. Thank you for caring about me. Thank you for being here. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for not giving up on me. </em></p><p>Then, his smile fell off his face and he averted his gaze. Sara’s heart picked up speed, and she worried that maybe her voice <em> had </em> been strong enough—too strong, even, and had told him more than she had intended. Had she made him uncomfortable? Was he put off by her emotional displays? Oh, heavens, had she ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her moments after waking up from one of the worst?</p><p>Apparently oblivious to the erratic beating of her heart, Gil took his time in dragging his hand down the side of her face, her shoulder, her arm, until it grasped her own limp fingers. “We need to talk, dear,” he said, his voice suddenly as hoarse as hers.</p><p>Against her will, a sob broke out of her lips. “No, please,” she said, voice pathetically, <em> pathetically </em>broken. “Pl—ease, Gil, I…I can’t, r—right now, right h—he—h—”</p><p>Eyes wide, Grissom cupped her face with his free hand. “Darling, honey,” he said. “You’re hyperventilating. Sweetheart. <em> Sweetheart </em>, take deep breaths. C’mon, now, my dear, you can do it. Breathe in… Breathe out… Breathe in… Yes, that’s it, honey, just like that…”</p><p>Sara reined in her breathing to a manageable level before a nurse poked his head in, so Grissom waved him off and kept his gaze on her.</p><p>“You’re okay, Sara,” he whispered, his eyes still wide in… Shock? Fear? Horror? All of the above?</p><p>Sara shook her head again. “N–No,” she sobbed, “I’m not. I’m—I’m broken. No wonder you…you want to…” She tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, but she only managed to hurt her ribs from how hard she had inhaled. Giving up on speaking, she focused on the hand Grissom wasn’t holding in an iron grip and started to pick at her bedsheets. What could she say in this situation, anyway? <em> No wonder you want to leave me. No wonder you can’t love me anymore. No wonder you’re realising you never loved me at all…  </em></p><p>Grissom furrowed his brow, and at least Sara knew what <em> that </em> meant: confusion. He was staring at her as if she were one of the few cases he just couldn’t puzzle out. And wasn’t that great? She was in love with the smartest person she knew, the only person she wanted to understand her, and he <em> didn’t </em>. Maybe broken was an understatement.</p><p>“It’s okay if you don’t want to speak right now, darling, but you are <em>not</em> broken,” he said, purposefully slowing and gentling his voice. She both hated and loved him for it. “You’ve been through quite the ordeal—and a panic attack just now on top of it. Like I said, you shouldn’t be talking right now.”</p><p>
  <em> And yet one of the first things you said to me was “We need to talk”. </em>
</p><p>He tilted his head at her, examining her with an all too heavy gaze, and her heart skipped a beat.</p><p>
  <em> Then again, even if I hadn’t just been kidnapped and left to die in the desert, I wouldn’t have the words. Your breaking up with me would leave me speechless no matter what. No matter what, it would just be you talking to me. What could I do, after all? </em>
</p><p>“You can just listen for now, okay, honey?” he whispered.</p><p>Sara scowled. Why was he doing that? Why was he still calling her pet names as he led up to his “It’s not you, it’s me” speech of lies? Was he trying to let her down easy? Because Heaven knows that was making it all the harder for her to not break down—again. No sweet nickname, not even the most un-Grissom ones like “honey bunch sugar pie”, would ever make her feel the same again. From then on, hearing a single pet name would make her heart lurch with pleasure, then her stomach plummet in despair as she remembered the horrible truth that was her life.</p><p>The confusion increased in Grissom’s expression, but he shook his head after a moment. “I’ll take that as an okay,” he said. “I have something to tell you, Sara, and it’s… It’s entirely my fault. And it’ll change our relationship irreversibly, I know, but I’m hoping you won’t be angry, and you’ll forgive me, and we can eventually work through it so we can return to what we had…before.”</p><p>Sara’s tough façade crumbled as her worst nightmare unfolded before her. “You can’t,” she begged, ignoring the sharp look of <em> What did I just say? </em> from her… Her what? Her partner? Her ex-lover? Her boss?</p><p>Grissom looked away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I’m sorry, Sara,” he said, squeezing her hand, “but it’s already been done.”</p><p>Ignoring the ensuing dizziness that was only worsening her nausea, Sara shook her head desperately. “You <em> can’t </em>, Gi—Gil— Grissom—,” she sobbed. “I still love you. I have always loved you. You—You can’t—”</p><p>Grissom leaned in closer, his breath fanning her face. “What are you talking about, honey?” he said, concern joining the confusion on his visage. “I know you love me. I love you, too. Have loved you for longer than I thought possible. Love you stronger than I knew I could.”</p><p>Sara hiccupped. She was inclined to disbelieve him, but Grissom seldom lied, and when he did, he surely wasn’t poetic about it. But if he still loved her, then why…?</p><p>Realisation dawned on her, and panic seized her heart. “Oh, no,” she whispered. As the panic mounted, so did her volume. “Oh, no, Gil, you can’t.”</p><p>Grissom frowned. “You keep saying I can’t, and I’m starting to get confused on what exactly I can’t do.”</p><p>Sara fought through the fatigue in her limbs and squeezed the hand Grissom had around hers with both of hers, so tightly her knuckles whitened. “I know you blame yourself,” she said, hoping adrenaline or destiny or the freaking power of true love would be enough to keep her voice steady long enough. “I know Natalie took me because of our closeness. I know you think nothing bad could possibly happen to me if we weren’t together. But you’re wrong. This is the wrongest, actually, you’ve ever been.”</p><p>Was she hyperventilating again? She could barely breathe with how fast and how forcefully she was speaking her little soliloquy.</p><p>“Because, actually, lots of bad stuff happens to me anyway,” she pointed out. “And <em> you’re </em>the thing that makes it all better. And— And when I was out there, in the desert, in the—”</p><p>Against her better judgement, her eyes darted to the window. Sunlight streamed in, but it was almost pleasant instead of downright harrowing now. She couldn’t spot a speck of sand amidst the plains of urban sprawl and rolling hills of concrete. Still, she had to gulp down her fear, knowing her almost-tomb was out there <em> somewhere </em>.</p><p>She dragged her eyes back to Grissom and was grateful he had pursed his lips to keep from interrupting. She had to get this out before her emotions completely eclipsed her coherence.</p><p>“When I was there,” she continued, “I didn’t blame you. I was scared, and stressed, and frustrated as all hell, believe me, and despite all of that I wasn’t angry. I didn’t—I <em> don’t</em>—blame you.”</p><p>She took a deep breath, and this time it didn’t hurt.</p><p>“In fact,” she whispered, “you were the only thing that kept me going. You <em> are </em> the only thing that keeps me going. The thought that I would never see you again broke my heart. The thought that <em> your </em>heart would break if you never saw me again broke my heart. I don’t want to cause you pain, Gil.”</p><p>Gil brushed away with his index finger a tear she hadn’t even noticed was rolling down her cheek. “You don’t,” he murmured. “You make me happy.”</p><p>As if she hadn’t heard, Sara soldiered on. “I kept telling myself I had to see you again,” she said. “I kept telling the Universe that I had to kiss you again, feel you again, have you and hold you again…” She trailed off, flushing as she realised she had borrowed a bit from the standard wedding vows. <em> Down, girl, before you really scare him off. </em></p><p>“And if you leave me—now, after everything—it will all be for nothing,” she said, hoping against hope he would understand what she was trying to tell him. “Because I won’t be able to do that. Any of that.”</p><p>She finally made herself look into Gil’s eyes. “Please, don’t do that to me,” she said. “To <em> us </em>. If you really love me, it’ll hurt you to say goodbye, too. We make each other better. We make each other’s lives better. I can’t… I don’t… I don’t think I can…”</p><p>
  <em> Get past this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Move on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Survive. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Live. </em>
</p><p>“…do this,” she said, stumbling over her words so much that they’re scattered in her mind and she’s forgotten their order. By the time she’s said her last word, she’s forgotten every single one that came before it.</p><p>Fortunately, the worry that overtook Gil’s features shocked her system back into working order.</p><p>“Without you,” she amended. “I can’t do this without you, Gil.”</p><p>Gil smiled and brushed his lips against hers. “Good,” he said, and so quietly that Sara wasn’t certain whether he was actually speaking or just transmitting his thoughts directly to her heart. “That’s good, Sara, because I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Sara jerked her head back so abruptly she was sure she’d have gotten a concussion (another one, if she had one already) if the softest pillow in existence wasn’t right behind her.</p><p>Worry overshadowed Gil’s face once more. “Careful, honey—”</p><p>“Really?” she cut in. “You mean it? You’re not leaving?”</p><p>Confusion and amusement fought over control of Gil’s expression. “No, not now, not ever,” he said. “I can barely stand to leave your bedside to go to the bathroom, darling. I’m not about to abandon you forever. Especially not right when you need me.”</p><p>Sara nodded almost feverishly. “Damn right I need you,” she muttered, then, finally, smiled. “So you’ve changed your mind?”</p><p>At that, confusion won the fight. “What?” he said. “Changed my mind? From what? To what? What?”</p><p>Sara rolled her eyes, but the grin remained on her lips. Nothing, not even her misfortune at having fallen for the dumbest person she knew, could dampen her mood now. She had Gil—<em>she had Gil </em>—and that was all that mattered. “‘It’s entirely my fault’?” she echoed his words back to him. “‘I hope we can return to what we had before’? <em>‘We need to talk’?</em>”</p><p>As she recalled how close to the edge they’d been—<em>she’d </em> been—she winced, regretting having infused so much harshness into her mockery. The feelings—the fear, the panic, the overwhelming anxiety of asking herself <em> What will I do without him?</em>—were still far too raw.</p><p>Gil’s eyes widened again. “Oh, no.”</p><p>Sara frowned. “I’m not saying I’m quoting you verbatim, Gil, but—”</p><p>“Oh, <em> no </em>,” he said, reaching out both arms to hug her. As he spoke, he pulled her closer and closer until he was practically impressing her into his chest. “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. No, darling. Never, honey, I would never… God knows I could never, sweetheart, never…”</p><p>Though Sara was <em> thoroughly </em>enjoying inhaling Gil’s scent so fully and feeling his voice rumble in his chest so closely, she pushed away so she could look at him. “Sweetie, now you’re the one repeating himself incoherently,” she remarked, smiling lopsidedly.</p><p>Not looking at all amused, Gil pressed his lips against hers hard enough to bruise. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she shuddered at feeling his mouth move against hers as he spoke. “I’m sorry for making you worried. Oh, my dear, now I see why you were so panicked…” He kissed her again, more gently this time, though he moved one hand to the back of her neck to ensure he was still molding her to him. “I’m not breaking up with you. I <em> wasn’t </em>breaking up with you.”</p><p>For some reason, that jostled her newly recovered inner peace, as if she hadn’t <em>just </em>established with Gil that they were still together, still okay. “Y–You’re not?” she said, and she hated how her voice cracked despite her already knowing the answer.</p><p>Gil shook his head as he lowered his lips to her jawline. “I can’t believe I didn’t understand before,” he said, pressing kisses to her skin between every few words. “We do need to talk, Sara, but not like that.”</p><p>Sara pulled his face up so she could look him in the eyes. “Then what about?” she demanded, though she didn’t let him answer before kissing him on the mouth. This wasn’t like them—such open, public displays of affection weren’t like them, and certainly not such incessant, such insistent ones. But she found herself liking it, and she was going to make the most of it while she could.</p><p>Gil leaned back, going the furthest from her that he had been in minutes. “I…may have told the team about us,” he said.</p><p>Sara’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything and spiral into another panic, he squeezed the back of her neck and she was melting with a pleased hum in his hold.</p><p>“We were discussing your…disappearance,” he said, “and I told them Natalie had taken you from me because I had taken Ernie from her. He was the only person she had ever loved.”</p><p>He held her gaze, and she smiled ever so slightly as the dots connected. He didn’t need to say the words for her to hear them.</p><p>“What I meant by returning to what we had before,” he continued, “was returning to the ease and comfort we had with each other when nobody else knew. When we didn’t have to worry about anything but each other when we were together.”</p><p>Sara nodded. “I’m sure it’ll be awkward at first,” she agreed, “but we’ve worked through awkwardness before. We can rediscover our rhythm.”</p><p>Gil smiled and nodded back, then sighed and glanced away. “I don’t know how Ecklie found out,” he grumbled, “but he did, and now he wants our heads. More than usual, anyway.”</p><p>Sara sighed and leaned back against her pillow. “We knew we would have to tell them eventually,” she said. “And this isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but at least you get to take the brunt of it.” She grinned at his soured expression. “With any luck, the rumour mill will have moved onto a new couple caught in the janitor’s closet by the time I’m back in the lab.”</p><p>It was Gil’s turn to roll his eyes. “You are ruthless, my dear,” he said. “Throwing your man to the wolves like that?”</p><p>Sara’s grin brightened a notch. “Oh, you’re my man?”</p><p>“Mmm.” He kissed her again, this time with less worry about having to reassure, less stress to prove a point, less concern about being gentle and comforting. This time, it was all passion and teeth and tongue. He both pulled her to him and pressed her back against the bed, practically on top of her with how far he was leaning over the bed, and when he licked her bottom lip, she didn’t hesitate before opening herself up to him and letting him explore the cavern of her mouth.</p><p>Was “explore” really the right word if he probably knew it better than she did? What else could she say? Refamiliarise himself with? Try out again? Revisit—</p><p>Her own moan broke her train of thought, and words fell away from the forefront of her mind.</p><p>When he pulled away to gasp for air, she whimpered and clutched at his shirt. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.</p><p>Gil looked at her with such soft eyes she started to tremble. “I won’t,” he said. “I promise you.”</p><p>The heaviness of the moment threatened to suffocate her, so she forced out an awkward laugh. “And if there was any doubt before—and there wasn’t—that I’m your woman,” she said, running her still quavering hand down the side of his face, “there isn’t any now. I’m yours, Dr. Gilbert Grissom. Unequivocally, indubitably, unregrettably, irreversibly yours.”</p><p>Instead of resuming the make-out session like she had hoped, Gil chuckled nervously and leaned further back, as if trying to get out of the range of her arms. “Would you still be mine if I told you I told Ecklie to talk to you first?”</p><p>Her muscles tensed, then sprung loose as she sat up and made a grab at him. “You did <em> what</em>?” she yelled as he jumped even further out of reach.</p><p>“Remember what you just said?” he cried. “Remember that you love me!”</p><p>Twisting her arm behind her to grab the pillow, she retorted, “You can be loved <em> and dead</em>, Dr. Gilbert Grissom!” And then she launched it at him and cackled as it hit him square in the face, eliciting the squawk of a bruised ego more than a bruised body.</p><p>But, really, he hadn’t had to have reminded her. How could she ever forget?</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <b> <em>“Good, the more communicated, more abundant grows.”</em> </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>– John Milton </b>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please let me know if you have any constructive criticism and/or if you have noticed any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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